


Lighthouse

by invisibledeity



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Cape Caem, Comfort fic, M/M, Nightmares, Yes you read that right, also a way of incorporating the Omen trailer into the story in a more interesting way, amazingly, but it's kind of a sad comfort fic though?, enjoy the soft promptis content guys, lots of hugs, love me some moonlit conversations, noctis has issues with his fate, set before altissia, sfw, sleep issues, soft fic, spoilers for chapter 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledeity/pseuds/invisibledeity
Summary: Cape Caem: the last stop on their road trip together. After this, Noctis knows his story will narrow, he knows he's bound to his fate. The night before they ship out to Altissia, he heads to the lighthouse, looking for comfort, a way to sear his last memories of freedom onto his mind forever. This is where Prompto finds him.





	Lighthouse

**Author's Note:**

> I took a trip to the waterfront with some friends today, and it was so isolated and lovely that I ended up scribbling this down in what must have been record time. Enjoy.
> 
> Title is from a fantastic song by Oak, which really set the mood for this piece.  
> lyrics: https://genius.com/Oak-lighthouse-lyrics

The safehouse was still and saturated in an uneasy calmness when Noctis awoke. For a second it felt like all the world was asleep, but that sensation rapidly vanished as the patter of soft feet echoed up through the floorboards from the kitchen below. Monica, cleaning up after dinner. Probably Ignis, too.

            It was quiet in the bedroom, save for that pattering, save for the gentle rise and fall of the breaths of his friends around him. Gladiolus was barely snoring, and that was a damn miracle. Prompto didn’t make a sound, as usual, but his chest moved just enough to know he was still alive. That used to scare Noctis so much, the way it didn’t sound like he even had a heartbeat, the way he could be mistaken for dead.

            But no. The only thing dead here was the night. Black and blue and soft as velvet, punctuated at long intervals by the sallow light flooding in from the lighthouse, beaming in like a coroner’s torch flashing into the eyes of a lifeless body.

            Noctis rose. His joints clicked, stiff and unwilling, but he wanted to get up, move around, drain the dream-images from his head. It hadn’t felt good. Yeah, he should be happy, finally going to Altissia tomorrow, but this dream had felt like an omen, signalling something of ill portent on the horizon. And, as a result, this safehouse felt like the last fragment of solid ground he would set foot on for a long time.

            He tried not to let the clicking of his joints wake Gladiolus or Prompto as he left the room. The resultant movement had him feeling like a marionette, played by some hidden puppeteer, clicking and jiving to some third act already written out but not enacted. Yet.

            Dwelling on that idea didn’t help, because when he thought about it, his life had never been his to begin with. Which was why he couldn’t go back to sleep now. He wanted to sear this memory onto his mind – Cape Caem with its honeysuckle-blossom scent stuck to the aged rafters, the mixture of loamy soil and sea breeze filling the air, and the warmth from that old-fashioned stove downstairs seeping into his bones. This was the last stop on their bachelor road trip together, the last outpost of the open world. His story would narrow after this point; the clipping of his wings would be complete.

            He’d marry Luna, and then he’d be king. Pulled into line finally, like his father. Like his dead father.

            His mouth twisted into a grimace, and he focussed on the stairs instead, on not letting them creak so loudly. Greeted Monica as she brewed some tea on that homely stove, told Ignis he was just going out to the lighthouse for some fresh air. The Advisor nodded, mouth set in a firm line but only because he was focussing on degreasing a particularly stubborn pan. When he told him not to stay out too long – _wouldn’t want to catch a cold before meeting your bride-to-be_ – his tone was kind.

            If he could weather this war with Niflheim, and come out of it alive, and somehow keep Ignis by his side after it all, he’d be a grateful man.

            But, instead of displaying such sentiment – it was too embarrassing, it’d just sound pathetic – he nodded, said ‘Sure,’ and slipped out the door. Outside, only a small lamp hung by the porch to give light. The rest of the pathway leading round the garden and up to the lighthouse was illuminated only by the moon, and the occasional sweep of the lighthouse’s glare.

            He felt isolated here. Cape Caem by night was like something out of a fantasy. Simple. Rural. But at the same time, sort of magical. He could imagine a life out here, so disconnected from everything. How serene that would be. This isolation he felt – it was a good thing.

            He never even considered that he should’ve maybe offered to help clean the pans until he was halfway to the lighthouse. Ah, never mind. He’d do it on the way back.

            On reaching the fence that bordered the lighthouse grounds from the cliff edge, he slowed to a gentle stop, traced his fingers along wood softened by sea salt. _Give me a little bit of peace to take with me. I have the feeling I’m going to need it._

Footsteps on the pebble-marked grass caught his attention.

            ‘The moon sure is beautiful tonight.’

            Prompto, walking up the path behind him. Of course it would be Prompto. His strides were languid, like he was still caught in that state between dreaming and wakefulness.

            ‘Prom? What’re you doing up?’

            ‘Ah, I noticed you were gone, and, uh… Wanted to check on you.’

            Damn, he thought he’d been so quiet.

            ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he replied.

            Prompto nodded, and fell into position beside him, subconsciously mirroring his pose against the fence. He stared out at the seascape for a while, and together they spent a moment enjoying the serenity together, only the waves crashing against rock below them to fill the silence.

            After a while, Prompto drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly, as if in meditation.

            ‘It’s real nice out here. So far from the hustle and bustle of the city, huh?’

            ‘Yeah,’ Noctis replied, catching his eye. And Prompto smiled in that bright way of his, starry blue eyes reflecting the heavens above them. Gods, when his hair caught the moonlight like that, it made it look silver. Made him look ethereal.

            He reached out a hand, almost against his will. More to test that those silvery filaments were real than anything else. It was almost too attractive to believe it really existed.

            ‘You’ve… got some hair in your face.’ He blurted the excuse the instant Prompto fixed him with a question, relaxing only when he noticed Prompto did so.

            ‘Heh, thanks, man. Those pillows are so bouncy, it really gives me bad bed hair.’ He smiled, and fussed over his own hair a little, after Noctis had pulled his hand away. Ah, there’s that pout. The expression that said he wasn’t fully satisfied with how he looked. Judging himself.

            ‘Chill, it looks fine,’ Noctis said, but his reassurance wasn’t going to work. Then, catching Prompto off guard, he mussed up his hair again, rather roughly, making sure to let some strands fall over his eyes this time. Prompto cried out, a light sound that was pleasing enough to make Noctis muss his hair up just a little bit more.

            ‘C’mon! I was almost done!’ There came the pout again. ‘Why’d you have to go and do that?’

            ‘It’s, uh, it’s just so I can do it again,’ he said, a sly smile dancing on his lips. Then he leaned in and brushed the hair from Prompto’s face, letting his fingers glide over that smooth, soft patch of skin around his temple, stroking the strands neatly behind his ears. He was laughing, and it was infectious, because Prompto echoed it almost instantly. It didn’t take long for his hands to dive past Prompto’s jaw and onto tickling just below the neckline of his vest. They wrestled until he found the hollow of Prompto’s armpit and then Prompto had to slap him away, laughing all the while.

            ‘Enough! Come on.’

            ‘Oh, looks like you got hair in your face again,’ Noctis quipped, and went back to clearing the strands from his face. He’d started with a laugh, but this time the laughter died away all too quickly because his pulse was racing and he was left cradling the sides of Prompto’s face in his hands, nothing but smooth skin and the rise of those prominent cheekbones beneath his palms. Prompto’s lips fell open ever so slightly.

            There was a moment, a slow and agonising moment, which held them both hostage until Noctis saw something pained in Prompto’s eyes and had to pull away.

            Prompto became quiet, knitted his hands together over the fence, stared out across the ocean.

            ‘When are we going to stop this?’

            A pang of guilt nestled deep in Noctis’s stomach. He didn’t know what to say. Prompto continued.

            ‘You’re going to marry Luna. You’re gonna see her tomorrow, I mean, come on. So why keep fooling around with me? Getting my hopes up?’

            Noctis heard his voice crack as he said, ‘I’m sorry.’

            But Prompto wasn’t done.

            ‘We play-fight. We touch each other. A _lot_. We even sleep in the same bed. But ultimately, it doesn’t mean anything, does it?’

            Noctis turned to face him directly. He could feel the muscles in his face tighten into a frown, but he couldn’t stop it. ‘No, that’s where you’re wrong. These things we do, it, it means the world to me. Gladio, and Ignis, they’re wonderful people and I’m lucky to have them, but they’re not people I chose. And Luna, she’s great. But even if she wasn’t, I’d still have to marry her. I don’t know, I just feel like none of this is… It’s not…’

            He sighed, tried to articulate it better. Then it came to him in a simple, clean sentence.

            ‘Being with you is the only freedom I have in this world.’

            He let the words hang in the air. Prompto considered them for a moment, but he seemed even sadder.

            ‘And tomorrow that’s going to end.’

            Hearing Prompto say that made it more real, made his fate seem even more hopeless.

            ‘Yeah.’ Ugh, he hated sounding so miserable.

            ‘So that’s why you couldn’t sleep, huh?’

            ‘Eh. Kind of. I had a bad dream.’

            ‘Care to share?’

            Noctis shivered. ‘It was more like an omen. Not like things aren’t bad enough already, but I think it’s all going to get worse after we set sail for Altissia. I saw – Ravus tried to give me my dad’s ring, but he turned into some sort of daemon. And Luna was… and you guys were behind this wall of fire. Umbra, he became this weird black daemon dog and I was trying to use the ring’s power wisely but it was all going wrong.’

             ‘Dude, that sounds messed.’

            ‘It gets worse. That Chancellor guy, Ardyn, he was there. Sort of up to something, behind it all.’

            Prompto shivered. ‘I don’t like him at all.’

            ‘Yeah, he’s a little bit creepy. Was worse in the dream though.’

            ‘Dude, he stroked my face! In the caravan, remember? That’s a little more than just creepy.’

            ‘Ugh. Don’t remind me.’

            ‘Well, about the dream. Your mind’s probably in overdrive right now. Right? This is probably just where all that stress is going. I mean, not like you’re in much control of what’s happening.’

            No, he wasn’t in control at all. Prompto had hit the nail on the head: this lack of control over his fate, this was the crux of his problem. Noctis nodded in agreement, and kicked his feet idly into the soil, listened to the sound of small pebbles flying onto the rocks below. The images from the dream were still so vibrant behind his eyelids, all searing flame and dark magic and the horrible, tearing sensation of his body flying out of control, of the Ring of the Lucii branding him with unholy light, making him spasm and fall into darkness instead. A scene where he accepted fire from some daemonic god, used it to burn Prompto and Ignis and Gladiolus, turn them to ash. A scene where he walked up to the Crystal, said ‘No,’ and destroyed it instead of bringing it home to Lucis. A scene where he plunged a knife deep into Lunafreya’s protesting body, fulfilling some dark prophecy that made the shadows at the edges of the scene laugh maniacally.

            Prompto was right; it was probably just his mind struggling to cope with the reality of this situation he didn’t choose to be in. If only he could shift the discomfort from his chest. But there were still so many variables unaccounted for in this equation, so many variables that could tip the balance and threaten to make his nightmare a reality. Or improve everything, he just didn’t know. But that Ardyn guy, he was one of them. And just what that meant remained to be seen. Gods, he hated the uncertainty.

            Thinking about Ardyn made him think about the caravan, and he stole a sidelong glance at Prompto, felt guilty as he traced the outline of his jaw with his eyes. Prompto had been seriously shaken up by that incident, and he should have paid more attention. He sucked in breath, prepared to broach it.

            ‘But seriously, about that. The caravan thing.’

            ‘Yuh-huh?’

            ‘I should’ve done more. When he did that. Called him out, or something.’

            Immediately, Prompto reacted dismissively. But then, he always did when anyone tried to turn the focus onto him. Noctis wondered if, somewhere, there was still that small kid thinking he wasn’t worth worrying about. That last heart-to-heart atop the motel roof had indicated as much.

            But he didn’t interrupt, he didn’t chide him for this. He just listened.

            ‘I don’t know. I don’t think any of us knew how to react. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you expect some random stranger to do.’ He nudged Noctis by the shoulder. ‘But, when _you_ do it, now that’s different.’

            Noctis felt that playful edge come back.

            ‘Oh yeah? How come?’

            ‘Cos I like you. So it’s okay.’ Prompto smiled at him, then went back to gazing at the stars, immediately trying to cover the feelings he let slip. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong. After what we just talked about, I’m totally not meaning that in any…’

            Prompto was caught out by Noctis pressing their lips together in a sudden, fervent kiss. It didn’t last long, just long enough to get the message across, but it was intense and forceful and all Noctis could think about was the softness of Prompto’s lips and the tightening sensation in his own pants. Then Noctis pulled back and looked up at him hopefully, expectantly, and with no small amount of worry. Prompto looked a little shell-shocked, and Noctis wondered if it would be more appropriate to apologise or do it again.

            ‘Whoa,’ Prompto eventually stuttered out, catching his breath.

            ‘Please don’t hate me,’ Noctis blurted out, all too quickly.

            Prompto laughed – was that a laugh? It was hard to tell.

            ‘Hate you? Oh, Noct…’ Okay, now he definitely sounded amused. ‘I don’t hate you. It’s, uh, more the opposite, actually.’

            ‘If it wasn’t for…’

            Prompto shushed him with a finger to the lips. And this time, he kissed Noctis first. When he initiated things, the kisses were gentler but more passionate, more enveloping, like he was keen to savour every inch of Noctis’s mouth.

            When they were done, they returned to basking in the moonlight, and Noctis thought about how beautiful it was to stand next to this honest-to-god angel. How fitting it was that Prompto stood right beside the lighthouse, this shining beacon of light in the darkness, but one that only shone so bright as a warning not to come closer, lest he be shipwrecked. Bit late for that.

            The clouds covered the moon, and the breeze moving in from the sea picked up. Noctis couldn’t suppress a shiver. Perhaps he should have brought his jacket.

            ‘Ignis wasn’t joking. It really is chilly out.’

            Before he knew it, Prompto had slipped behind him and wrapped him in a hug, warming his arms and back with the heat from his own body. One hand stretched across his chest, while the other clasped a little lower over his stomach. His grip was tender, and his nose was all nuzzled into the hollow of Noctis’s shoulder. Possessively. Protectively. For a moment, Noctis felt utterly cared for, utterly enveloped in his love, and he held on with urgency, both hands gripping Prompto’s forearm where it braced his chest. He could hear Prompto’s breathing, the movement of his chest falling into step with his own, creating harmony with the crashing waves.

            The urgency melted into calmness.

            ‘Let’s just stay here forever,’ he murmured, in a voice so soft he wondered if he’d even be heard.

            He heard Prompto sniff behind him.

            ‘A little longer can’t hurt.’

            No more words between them, because it hurt too much to say. They stayed like that for a long while, Noctis letting tears roll silently down his face, because he’d found his moment of peace, the one thing he’d take with him across the seas and probably to the end of his days. Whatever happened, whoever he married, however the war might separate them, there would always be Prompto with his kind words and his radiant expression, shining out like a lighthouse in the darkness, guiding him home.


End file.
